There is no banquet in the world that never ends; until we meet again.
When Chen Ji rode southward, Lu Shi turned and looked back toward the narrow alley.
The man holding the horse lance finally raised his head, revealing the left eye that was nothing but white.
Hu Junyuan — Hu Sanye.
He glanced once at the pursuers behind them, unhurriedly saying, “Don’t worry, nobody’s dying today. There will be a time to see each other again, he—”
Lu Shi cut him off. “You and I have wandered the jianghu for twenty years. What great storms haven’t we seen? This isn’t the time for sentimentality.”
“The East Master is still the East Master,” Hu Sanye laughed loudly, “makes my worry seem a bit needless. It’s been so many years since someone chased me — I was almost forgetting how to taste blood on a blade.”
At that moment, the sound of hooves rose on both sides — as if the secret agents had come in to encircle from the wings.
Passing a narrow alley, Lu Shi’s eyes slipped through a gap and saw a spy cantering past on the opposite side, riding parallel to them.
Horse hooves behind grew closer.
She bent low on the saddle and looked back to see Xuan She leading five riders in pursuit.
Xuan She was wrapped in a black cloak, his face cold and sinister.
Dozens of agents formed like a bag, intent on trapping the three of them inside.